crimson sinners
glowing red hot in the furnace down below
tongs for your immortal soul
souls burn hot and bright

in piles of slag by the grates
soulslag by the grates, waiting for the shovel
for the bite and the bark of the shovel

Satan is god's chief engineer
Runs the boiler room of god's gigantic ship
The "HEAVEN", in script across the bow
And this ship needs souls to make her go!

So don't despair, little Misty Maroo
You'll soon be providing motive power to the paddlewheels of god's
conveyance!
You'll soon be motive power to the turbines of god's conveyance
He's got errands hither and yon
And a special use for you!